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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23555263">how the end comes.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie'>Prettything_uglylie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the leaflets that fall out when you shake the book [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Dying thoughts, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Internal Monologue, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, POV Second Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:48:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23555263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You're bleeding but you aren't thinking about dying.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the leaflets that fall out when you shake the book [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1415044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>how the end comes.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was just...thinking about this. And I hope you like this a lot!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>You're bleeding but you aren't thinking about dying. </p><p>You're thinking about Bill's sad, desperate eyes as he practically begs whatever Gods - maybe the Turtle himself - for you to live but you know that you are going to die. You can feel the blood pour from the gaping wound and you are both grateful it doesn't hurt but almost wish it did: if it did, you could survive this but you knew when throwing that spear that there was a chance, you knew climbing down that well and if you're even more honest with yourself, you knew at thirteen, following Big Bill Denbrough down here to save Beverly. You've always been willing to die, for someone so scared of the idea. </p><p>Bill doesn't approach you -- he's standing beside Mike and Mike is gripping his hand and you pray that they finally make something of this connection they've had for twenty-seven years because you think of Bill's everpresent sad eyes from the time you had met him at six years old to the time he had met Mike and your best friend has always deserved happiness. </p><p>If he wasn't sobbing so loud and you weren't trying to stop yourself from spitting up blood, you might even say it. </p><p>You're thinking about Ben's watery eyes but firm nod when you had jerked your head in a 'get them out of here' motion. He would do it, you know that -- he loves them just as much as you love them. He may even try to drag you out, pulse or not, destruction prevailing or not, you know that too -- he loves you just as much as he loves the others. </p><p>You love him too. </p><p>Beverly's hands are gentle where they fiddle pointlessly with the fabric of the leather jacket to make a satisfactory enough piece of cloth to stop the bleeding - <em>how do you amputate a waist? </em>He remembers saying, all childish energy and sweet bitterness as they had headed to patch Ben up with Stanley Uris behind you - and he smiles a bit. Beverly has always been lovely, with him, with Richie, with all of the Losers and she has always deserved happiness. She's always deserved <em>Ben. </em></p><p>You want to believe she could save you here. </p><p>But you can't. </p><p>And you don't. </p><p>It all hurts but it doesn't hurt as much as Richie's eyes are broken, teary-eyed as he kneels in the space near your feet, having stripped off his jacket to create a safety net for you and Bev has pressed it too close to your heart but you think it's beautifully ironic -- Richie stripping off pieces of himself for you that you press dearly into your heart. </p><p>You stare. </p><p>You stare because you've never seen Richie's face look so full of sorrow and darkness, like he would never be happy again. You hope he is -- he has to be or this means nothing. </p><p>You love him. <em>You love him. </em><em><strong>You love him. </strong></em></p><p>You want to scream it at him. </p><p>You don't. It's overdue by twenty-seven years and you wonder if it would even sound genuine now but you do. You love his constellation, deep eyes even when they're full of tears and you love his thick-rimmed glasses even if you used to tease him for them all the time. You love how much older he looks while having kept the same charms, only refining them but you remember being crazy about the scrawny, overactive kid he was at fourteen. You love him but you can't say it because it always tastes like Mommy's pills being pushed down your throat and the assurances that you won't keep thinking about other boys like that. </p><p>You love him. </p><p>You don't say it. </p><p><em>I fucked your mom, </em>you say instead because it always made him laugh and if you're dying, <em>- you are, you know you are - </em>you have to see him smile one last time, you have to remember what he looks like not so <em>sad </em>and in a memory that may be muscle phantoms, you can imagine Stanley Uris' amused but harsh glare when you two would tease each other like that and you look at Richie and you think <em>Stan's gonna take care of me and Bill's gonna take care of you -- it's alright Richie, it's alright, alright, alright. </em></p><p>The others have gone. Richie's still there. The blood on his hands has stained a ring over his left ring finger. You think about marrying Richie, about how his onyx eyes would glow and how he would make stupid jokes in his vows and <em>you love him. </em>Your heart starts to beat faster. You're losing more blood. You're bleeding out. </p><p>You're in love and you're bleeding out and neither of you will say a word but you both love each other. </p><p>You've loved this boy since you were eleven years old. </p><p>You don't say it. </p><p>You say <em>go, the others need you </em>instead. </p><p>He's still gripping at the jacket and he must know it's futile but he shakes his head and when he says 'no', you can only tell what word it is by the simplicity of lipreading the denial because his voice has given out to tears at some point. </p><p>You grip him by the front of his stupid - <em>stupid - </em>wonderful shirt and you croak out, "You nicknamed me Eds, you remember that?" </p><p>He nods and you want to kiss him stupid because he's crying again - <em>stupid, stupid boy. </em></p><p>You smile. You've always loved this stupid, stupid boy, even with his 'your mom' jokes and his stupid button-ups and you tell the stupid lover boy, "It made me feel like a superhero." </p><p>He sobs. </p><p>You want to kiss him. </p><p>"Go be a superhero, Rich." </p><p>You think of reading superhero comic books in the clubhouse, residing in a hammock too small for two preteen boys. You think of debates that last way past your mother's enforced bedtime at his house of which superhero you would be and what powers you would have. You think of him sneaking the two of you into the Aladdin to see the Toxic Avenger at nine years old when both of you were too young to watch movies like that but both so eager to as well. You think of digging your face into his shoulder in the dark during that movie. You think about his scrawny arm coming up to wrap around you in your hidden seats. </p><p>You think about him. </p><p>He stands. </p><p>You think about how you love him, all strange bravery and calculated courage and you think about how for all his talk, Richie Tozier is loyal, brilliant and the love of your life. </p><p>You think about Richie. </p><p>You think <em>I love him. </em></p><p>You watch him walk away and you are grateful. </p><p>You think <em>I wouldn't have wanted to die for anyone but you, Richie, for anyone but you, I wouldn't have taken the risk - </em></p><p>You don't notice when your breathing stops.</p><p>You were too busy thinking about him. </p><p> </p><p>[ you don't feel him hug you either, despite the years of being pulled into those safety-net arms. you don't hear his screams and his begging to stay with you. you don't feel the house fall. you don't see them defeat the monster. you don't see his heart break. </p><p>you love him. </p><p>you do. </p><p>that doesn't always mean a happy ending. ] </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you like this! <br/>Yell at me in the comments, I deserve it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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